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- May 27, 2015
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That was actually drawn by Yer-Keiji-fer-Cash, yet another famous face in the WG community for shelling out pay packs.Was that first pic in spoiler no. 2 drawn by Dobson? Kinda looks like it. And if it weren't for the waists, I wouldn't consider the first two pictures bad. Just kinda sloppy looking.
The rest I'm worried about. Given how ludicrously overweight the girls in the other pictures are, they should have been crushed under their own weight, let alone dead from heart attacks and high cholesterol.
Sort-of on the topic of pedal pumping, I also don't know why cars getting stuck (not just to poles, as I mentioned before) is also a thing. This person's gallery comes to mind, mostly because it's all done in MSPaint from the looks of it, so it's just bad:
http://tilllindemannismygod.deviantart.com/art/IA-Stuck-543998226
http://tilllindemannismygod.deviantart.com/art/And-Finally-491182239
http://tilllindemannismygod.deviantart.com/art/Luka-s-Stuck-Trouble-467731335
http://tilllindemannismygod.deviantart.com/art/Stuck-Commission-490566093
Yeah, that's normally why I just avoid comment sections when browsing through dA in general. You never know what hive of autism and creepiness lurks in them.
I take it you never looked at the thread we have for Pamperchu. We're well aware that diaper fetishes exist. And kinda wish we didn't, either.The one biggest horror of DA in my opinion is the "diaper fetish" (yes, this exists).
Oh yeah, this guy's a pretty notorious one at that, Here, have a look.^"Pamperchu"? Jesus...
Two things:![]()
Someone stained Tumblr on deviantART's carpet and it's not coming out.
I will likely regret clicking on this, but my curiosity shall get the better of me.Oh yeah, this guy's a pretty notorious one at that, Here, have a look.
I found the story that this abomination was commissioned for.
(Aaaaand stopping here.)Wat. said:“DADDY!!! I WANT ICE CREAM!!!”
It’s not unusual to hear a little girl scream this, it is slightly unusual, however, when that little girl weighs close to 7000lbs.
I bawl and kick my fat legs, thrashing my barely clenched chubby fists, not sated by the three hour snack I’ve just finished consuming.
“ME STILL HUNGWYYYYYY!!!”
“Lunch is nearly ready, Princess” Daddy replies nervously, hoping to appease me.
This is my life, thirteen years of obese bliss. I've done nothing my entire time on Earth but eat and sleep and eat and sleep. I deserve no less, Daddy says I’m the prettiest little girl in the universe. I’ve always got what I wanted and all I’ve ever wanted was to eat.
Finally, Mommy brings my ice cream out, helped by one of the useless kitchen staff. They bring out twenty huge tubs of different flavored ice cream which I scoop out with my hands and shovel straight into my awaiting lips. There are also two carts covered in salad-bowls of syrup, chocolate sauce, sprinkles, cool whip, strawberries, and smarties. They’re all intended to decorate my little ice cream snack but I eat them separately with childish greed.
After twenty minutes of this near frantic gorging I’m completely exhausted, and my face is covered in ice cream and sprinkles. I order one of my little brothers to feed me. There’s always one constantly in waiting in case his beautiful big baby-sister needs anything, which I usually do as lately my arms have been getting tired sooner and it’s increasingly difficult and distressing for me to move them.
He takes up a box of donuts from a huge stack that sits by my bedside, like a great sentinel waiting to fall to the power of my starvation.
While he’s feeding me I can relax for once and tell you about myself. I’m 13, and I weigh about 6,900 lbs. I’ve the most adorable blue eyes and an upturned nose between rosy Rubenesque cheeks. My moist plump lips sit impatient above a row of three jiggling chins. When my hair’s not covered and clumped in food it's strawberry blonde and curly. My dainty arms rest heavily at the side of my mammoth tummy which stretches out beyond my knees and touches the top of my sweet little feetsies. All I wear is a Minnie mouse t-shirt and my fluffy pink slippers. I’m the cutest thing you ever saw. Daddy calls me his little piggy.
As far back as I can remember I’ve done nothing but eat. Eat and eat and eat, I’ve never wanted to do anything else. From the moment I was born I wouldn’t stop crying unless I was eating. Daddy had a group of wet nurses to sate me as a baby, I would go through eight at a time before I fell asleep, napped it off, then woke up to repeat the process. By the time I was 5 I weighed almost 600 lbs. I remember my parents asking me if I wanted to go to school, but fuck that! Who wants to do boring learning when I can just stay home and eat all day? Well, the part of the day I’m not busy napping. Daddy loves me so much that he lets me do whatever I want and constantly dotes on me no matter how fat I get. In fact, my two little brothers can’t go to school because I need them to stay home and help feed me. They love helping their big baby sister.
I’ve been bed bound for about two years now, at first I just didn’t want to move but now I’m not sure I can. Ah well, I’m not going to attempt to get up while I can lie here all day and be fed anything I want.
Some of the servants come in wheeling in carts of food and carrying platters.
My upsettingly small lunch consists of fifty roast chickens, a hundred burgers, seventy five huge pizzas, sixty bottles of Pepsi and Coke, a hundred quesadillas and thousands of fries. I start to cry and throw a fit because of how small this meal is but I perk up a bit when Daddy tells me this is only one of the starter courses.
“WELL HURRY UP!!! BRING IT HERE!! YOUR LITTLE ANGEL IS STARVING!!!”
My little brothers climb up one either side of their beautiful big sister and start shoveling food into my impatient gnashing maw. For the next two hours all I do is lay back and let them feed me, chewing and swallowing is the most exercise I’ve ever had in my life. At the end of my titanic lunch my big pale tummy is swollen and strains towards the end of the bed, food and drool is splattered all down my pink Minnie Mouse shirt (which now only reaches below my breasts, curling up under them like a bra). My entire face and most of my hair is slathered in the ruins of my repast.
I burp. I’m as close to satisfied as I’ve ever been.
After lunch I like to take a quick nappy time to get my energy back, this is also usually when I empty my stomach to make room for the meal that will be undoubtedly waiting for me when I awake.
“DADDY! ME NEED CHANGING!!”
I don't blame you for leaving. Though I'm not sure if it's a good thing that you never saw his pictures.I will likely regret clicking on this, but my curiosity shall get the better of me.
EDIT: I bailed after reading the first post on the thread:
"Has anyone observed the infamous Pamperchu? He gives Chris a run for his money by stealing dirty diapers from the trash, microwaving them, and wearing them."
I'll try to come back later, but that's too much demented for me to handle right now.
Imagine if that were a roleplay. Or better yet, let's not.I found the story that this abomination was commissioned for.
I found the story that this abomination was commissioned for.
(Aaaaand stopping here.)
...what did I just look at?That one picture with the old guy and the two cartoon women is ironic on so many levels.
You call it beauty.